


A Startled Awakening

by layalee



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Babbling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Angst, Friendship, Hurt!Felicity, Hurt/Comfort, Innuendo, Love, Nightmares, Oops, Protective Oliver, Season/Series 02, Team Arrow, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3723307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/layalee/pseuds/layalee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Felicity startles Roy awake, the consequences that follow with Oliver are ones she could never have imagined.<br/>This is gonna be a multi-shot fic set in Season Two. Total Olicity, but it starts off with Roylicity friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Starts With an Awakening...

It was a quiet evening in the foundry. With Oliver and Sara running a routine patrol and Diggle monitoring a potential target, the only sounds to punctuate the silence were Felicity’s fingers over the keyboard and Roy’s even breaths as he dozed off on the couch (that Felicity had insisted they buy).

Felicity glanced back at Roy and smiled. Sure, he was rough around the edges, but Roy was fiercely loyal and he had a passion for helping the people of this city. He looked up to Oliver, and, while it had taken a while to find his rhythm and place in the team dynamic, he had warmed up to Felicity and Diggle as well. Although he still wasn’t used to Felicity’s famous rambles. Felicity blushed as she recalled a particularly suggestive innuendo she had accidently made while briefing him on their target the other night.

Resuming her work, Felicity focused on compiling information on the target Diggle was monitoring to relay to Oliver later. If it wasn’t for the low groan she heard from Roy’s general direction, she probably wouldn’t have turned around and seen him appear agitated.

Rising from her seat, Felicity’s face was marred by a worried frown. Slowly approaching Roy with her arm half-outstretched, she registered that he seemed to be having a nightmare. Reaching his side, Felicity bit her lower lip as she went through the pros and cons of waking him up. On one hand, startling him awake would be dangerous, especially with his super-strength. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to be plagued by nightmares.

Reaching a decision, Felicity leaned in close. “Roy, wake up. You’re having a bad dream. At least, I think you’re having a bad dream. You were groaning and now your eyeballs look like they’re having a party behind your eyelids. Oh God, you’re not having a sex dream are you? You better not be ‘cause that’s just weird. And awkward, totally awkward. Never mind, you’re scrunching up your face like you’re in pain. It’s definitely a bad dream.”

He didn’t seem to be registering her voice, so Felicity firmly reached out and laid a hand on Roy’s bicep, squeezing slightly.

She couldn’t have possibly imagined what happened next.

Before she could blink, Roy had jumped up from the couch, gripping her wrist in a painful grasp as he flipped her to the ground and straddled her, his other hand wrapping around her throat. The hand on her wrist moved to painfully grip her upper arm.

Felicity’s eyes flew to Roy’s, seeing the wild look in them. She couldn’t breathe, let alone use her voice to jar him out of whatever trance he was in. Looking into his eyes, she didn’t see the Roy who laughed with Sin, or the Roy who smiled fondly at Thea, or the Roy who listened carefully as Oliver gave him tips about his fighting stance. She saw a scared Roy, a hunted one, a Roy who saw others as threats. Who saw her as a threat.

She was starting to panic as her body demanded air. “Roy,” she managed to wheeze out. Her voice seemed to do the trick.

As fast as he had pinned her down, he staggered away from her, his face morphing into a horrified expression. He looked down at his hands in disgust, as if he couldn’t believe what they had done. Felicity’s hand automatically went up to soothe her throat, gulping in deep breaths of air; he only had her pinned down for a few seconds, but she knew that her throat, along with her wrist and upper arm, would bruise.

“Roy.” She tried to say it softly, but her voice came out scratchy.

His head whipped up to look at her; the fog she had glimpsed earlier cleared from his eyes. Now they were filled with self-loathing.

“Felicity, oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please forgive me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word, breaking her heart along with it.

Taking a step forward, she winced as she saw him take two steps back, away from her. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who startled you. I’m okay, no harm done.”

He looked at her throat – which she was still clutching – pointedly. Her hand dropped and she took two quick steps forward, not allowing him to retreat this time as she gripped his arm. “It’s nothing. I’m okay. Seriously, it could’ve been worse. I mean like, thank God you didn’t break my arm or something, because that would have seriously sucked. And you know what they say: no blood, no foul. Seriously about the blood, though, you know I don’t like it. Which is ironic considering who we work with, right? I think the number of times I’ve stitched up Oliver has helped build up an immunity against my reluctance at seeing blood, but still, better safe than sorry.” Felicity knew she was rambling and for once she didn’t mind, because she could feel Roy’s muscles relax slightly under her fingers.

She smiled gently. “I’m okay, Roy. Next time you’re having a bad dream though, I’m poking you with a stick,” her smile turned cheeky as she delivered her words and the faint returning smile on Roy’s face made her want to fist pump the air.

“I might have to borrow your stick though,” she continued thoughtfully. Her eyes widened at her words and she rushed to explain herself. “Not your _stick_ , ugh, God, I meant those Eskrima sticks you guys use for training. Not your _stick_ stick. I wouldn’t borrow that. You’re like a brother to me and I think Thea would probably murder me if I touched your stick and ugh God _why am I still talking?_ ” Felicity’s voice trailed off at Roy’s full-throated laugh.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, “you know I can’t help it.”

“Oh, Blondie, you sure do know how to make a guy feel better,” Roy said, still chuckling.

Sauntering back to her station, she looked at him over her shoulder and said with a pout, “I wouldn’t laugh at you if _you_ didn’t have a brain-to-mouth filter.”

He grinned and replied, “Yeah you would.”

Felicity grinned back. “Yeah, I would.”

 


	2. …Followed by Concealment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity reflects on what happened and then we see how Oliver reacts to her bruises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Oops, I forgot to put this at the beginning of the first chapter. Of course, Arrow and its original characters don't belong to me. Rights solely belong to DC and the CW, even though I often dream of being Mrs. Oliver Queen ;) As it is, I'm only borrowing the characters to satisfy my poor heart.
> 
> Anyyyways, as promised, Oliver's reaction is below, so read on. I'd initially intended this to be a two-shot but I decided to extend it a little, so the story isn't concluded in this chapter.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism as well as suggestions are always welcome!  
> And thanks to all who kudo'd, subscribed and/or commented. 
> 
> Without further ado, Chapter Two everyone!

 

When Felicity returned home that night, she had to take a moment to lean back against her door and just breathe. Back at the foundry, she hadn’t let Roy see how rattled she was, but now, in the privacy of her own home, she let the tremors run freely through her body.

In that moment, when he had her pinned down and she could _see_ that he didn’t recognize her, she felt fear. Oh, not of Roy. She wasn’t afraid of him per se. She was more afraid of not being able to get through to him, of this being her last conscious moment, of never listening to Dig’s soothing words or catching up with her mother or teasing Oliver ever again. Oliver. In that moment of fear, thoughts of him overwhelmed her.

While Felicity was reluctant to say it aloud, she knew she couldn’t lie to herself. She had feelings for Oliver. Strong feelings. Real feelings. Feelings that made her want to smile even while she was weeping. And he… Well, he was Oliver Queen. He was her friend, her partner, and occasionally her confidante. But she knew he would never be more to her; he just didn’t see her that way.

Wiping away the tears that had formed under her eyes, Felicity straightened up and headed to her bedroom, shaking her head to chase away her thoughts. She stripped out of her dress and turned to look in the floor length mirror.

Her eyes bugged out. “Good thing I left the foundry before the others came back,” she murmured to herself. She was sure that Dig or Oliver would find it unusual that she had left before their return, since she always stayed until she had visual confirmation that they were okay. But she didn’t want to risk it. Her dress was sleeveless and the already angry-looking bruises would have been glaringly obvious.

Her fingers lightly trailed over the bruise on her throat. The impression of fingers was unmistakable. Roy’s fingers. Closing her eyes again, Felicity tried to push away the memory of the panic she had felt. It wasn’t Roy’s fault. She should have known better than to have startled him. Although she didn’t know the details, she knew that Roy had a troubled past which made him jumpy sometimes. Oliver faced the same affliction.

Opening her eyes, Felicity sighed and turned away from the mirror. She grabbed a tank top and pajama pants from her closet, slipped off her bra and put them on. Pausing before heading to the bathroom for her nightly routine, Felicity selected a long sleeved shirt for tomorrow and a matching scarf.

There was no way she would let the others – let _Oliver_ – see those bruises.

***

When Felicity woke up the next day, the first thing she did was groan. Because _dammit,_ those bruises _hurt_. She didn’t feel the full extent of the pain yesterday – due to the shock and adrenaline – but she felt them now.

Sitting up in bed, she grumbled to herself. “I love Roy and everything, but _ouch_. I’m definitely using a stick next time.”

She swung her feet out of bed and curled her toes into the plush carpet adorning her bedroom. With a sigh – because sleep is awesome and yummy and her bed was so comfy – she walked into the bathroom –

–and gasped when she saw her reflection.

Never mind her bed hair, or her puffy eyes, or the fact that she should really buy some new tank tops. No, those weren’t the reasons for her gasp. What elicited the sound from her throat were the angry bruises adorning her neck, her upper arm and wrist.

“Omigosh, what do they _put_ in those super-soldier serums?”

Not only did all the bruises have clear finger-marks, they were purple and red and most of all, _obvious_.

Shaking her head with a groan, she turned around to take a shower. She had a long day ahead of her.

***

“Good morning, John,” Felicity smiled at him as she descended the stairs and tugged nervously at the sleeves of her sweater. She had opted for jeans and a form-fitting deep blue sweater instead of the shirt she had picked out last night. Considering it was Saturday and she didn’t have to dress for the office, she chose a more casual look.

“Morning, Felicity. Sleep well?” If Dig thought that her wearing a scarf in the foundry was odd, he didn’t mention it.

Stopping in front of him, she did an odd shaking motion with her head, a half nod yes and a half shake no. “I slept alright. You?”

“Lyla came back from her mission, so…” he grinned sheepishly.

Felicity’s smile widened. “Oooh, that’s great! Not your implication about you know,” she hurried to explain, internally groaning, “although that’s cool too. I mean about her being back. In one piece. And with energy. Ugh. Yep, I’m gonna shut up now.”

Diggle chuckled as she covered her face with her hands, her face burning. Before he could comment, she heard the beep that indicated the foundry code was entered into the keypad. Lowering her hands, she looked up to see Sara and Oliver descend together.

Felicity looked away; she couldn’t help it. She loved Sara, but seeing her with Oliver _hurt_. She hoped they were happy together, she really did, but she still couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat at the sight of them arriving together.

After returning their good morning greetings, Felicity headed to her babies but stopped at Oliver’s question. “Where’s Roy?”

She turned around to face him, tamping down the flutter in her stomach that always seemed to be present when she was near him. “I don’t think he’s here yet,” she replied. A sudden thought occurred to her. _Roy didn’t tell Oliver about what happened, right?_

Felicity schooled her features so that her panic wouldn’t leak into her expression. In her hurry to leave before the boys arrived last night, she had forgotten to ask him to keep the little incident to themselves. She didn’t blame Roy, not one bit, and she didn’t want him to receive heat from Oliver and Diggle and even Sara for something he had no control over.

Trying to sound nonchalant, she stepped closer to Oliver, taking a moment to breathe in his scent, and asked, “Uh, did you see him last night when you came back from patrol?”

She didn’t miss Oliver’s puzzled expression. “No, he was gone before we came back. Like you.”

Felicity swallowed. She also didn’t miss Oliver’s unspoken question. “Yeah uh, I had some stuff to take care of, so I left a little earlier than usual.” She hated not being honest with Oliver, but she pushed away the guilt.

She heard Dig and Sara discussing something about their target tonight in the corner and she turned to them for a moment before being pulled back to Oliver. “Are you cold?” he asked, perplexed.

“Huh?” She was actually kind of warm. Oliver had wisely invested in some heaters for the often-drafty foundry a few months ago.

Oliver gestured at her scarf.

“Oh!” _Right_. “Mmhmm.”

Oliver’s sharp eyes observed her and she resisted the urge to fidget. Finally, he gave a puzzled shake of his head and asked to see her research on their target. Sighing in relief, Felicity turned to her babies and began updating him.

***

Later that night, Felicity had given up and removed her scarf and pulled up the sleeves of her sweater. Not only was she too warm, but their mission tonight was stressful which only served to increase the heat she was feeling.

Opening her mouth to warn Oliver about the men heading his way – she was observing the camera feeds of the multi-storied warehouse they were in – an explosion went off in the comms, followed by terrifying silence.

“Oliver? Oliver?!” She didn’t receive an answer.

“Dig? Roy? Sara? Can you hear me? Are you guys okay? What’s going on? Oliver??”

Dammit, this was the worst part of the job. This anxiety and bone-deep fear that she was going to lose her friends.

 _Not just your friend_ , her traitorous mind whispered, _but the man you love as well_.

Tears formed in her eyes in response to the thought. “Oliver?” she asked in a broken whisper.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then –

“I’m here.”

She had to mute the comms from her end as she released shuddering breaths mixed with tears of relief.

***

It was her fault, really. She had gone to such lengths to make sure no one found out about the bruises, that it was bound to be her who ruined all her efforts.

She was distracted by almost losing her friends in the surprise explosion that she didn’t put the scarf back on in preparation for their return, nor did she push the sleeves of her sweater down to conceal the large bruise on her wrist.

From the video feeds on her computers of Verdant, she saw Oliver punch in the code on the keypad near the foundry door and open it. He was alone; she assumed Dig, Sara and Roy were on their way back (Sara usually rode her own motorcycle while Dig and Roy took the van).

Swiveling her chair around, she ignored the brush of her ponytail on her sore neck and rushed up to the base of the stairs to greet the green vigilante.

“Oliver!”

Oliver was lowering his hood and taking off his mask. She smiled in relief at seeing him uninjured.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” he said, walking over to the glass case where he stored his bow. “One of the guys had a grenade but we managed to –” Turning around to finally look at her, Oliver froze.

Uncomprehending, Felicity watched as his eyes widened then hardened and his jaw clenched. His hands were suddenly fisted by his sides and tension was radiating from his body.

Felicity outstretched her arm, figuring he was just now feeling an injury. But the action made his eyes flick down to her wrist and focus there. Felicity was too busy analyzing the fury in his eyes to follow his gaze. However, at his next words, she froze too.

“Felicity?” his voice was strangled, “Who hurt you?”

Felicity stilled. “What?” she croaked.

Oliver took a menacing step forward. “Who _hurt_ you?” he ground out.

Belatedly, Felicity realized her bruises were on proud display. She gasped sharply.

Tugging on the sleeves of her sweater, she frantically turned around the grab her scarf (it was too late now, the damage was done, but she had to do _something_ ). Oliver’s hand encircled her arm to stop her. Felicity gave another sharp gasp, but this time it was laced with pain because Oliver had inadvertently grasped her bruised upper arm.

He immediately released her and took a step back and away from her, recognizing the gasp for what it was. Apprehensively, Felicity glanced at him and wished she hadn’t. The absolute _fury_ in his eyes was intense and scary and –

Hot. It was hot. Because that fury wasn’t directed at her, but instead at who had hurt her. And while Felicity knew that Roy didn’t deserve one bit of this fury, the mere fact that Oliver would get upset because _she_ was hurt sent delighted shivers down her spine.

Oliver and Felicity stood in silence, facing each other, their bodies close but tense. Felicity swallowed and the action brought Oliver’s attention back to her purple and red neck. Hesitantly, he raised his arm and slowly brought his hand closer to her neck. Felicity watched in fascination as his fingers edged closer and closer until they finally ghosted over the marks there. His touch was so light it brought her no pain.

Her eyes almost fluttered closed at the sensation, but he spoke before she could do that. “Felicity, _please_ , just tell me what happened.” Shock filtered through her system at Oliver’s tone; it wasn’t his words, or his request, or his use of ‘please’. No, it was the raw pain in his voice that made her heart thunder.

It wasn’t a pain she had heard before. Of course, it wasn’t the first time she was injured over the course of their partnership. There was The Count and the Clock King; both were terrifying experiences. Yes, Oliver had been worried and angry that she was put in harm’s way and wounded in the process. Yes, there had been pain in his eyes as he saw her fear and blood and steadied her shaking hands with his.

But not like this. Because Oliver Queen’s voice wasn’t just filled with pain… It was gripped by anguish.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Felicity continue to conceal the story behind her bruises or will she confess the truth? And how will Oliver react to what she decides to tell him? Drama will ensue, not necessarily just between Oliver and Felicity...


	3. … Continues with a Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words are spoken and things get broken. In that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here is Chapter Three. I'm excited to see what you guys think of it. Initially, I was going to take it in a different direction, but the words just took over and made this instead.

“It’s not what it looks like,” was the first thing Felicity blurted out. At Oliver’s narrowed eyes, she gulped and tried again.

“It’s not a big deal, Oliver. I’m okay, really.” Oliver’s expression turned thunderous; Felicity backpedaled, holding her hands out in a pacifying gesture.

She tried one more time. Third time’s the charm, right?

“He didn’t mean to hurt me. It was an accident. It’s all just a big misunderstanding and you know, not really my story to tell ‘cause maybe it’s private and no one wants their private stuff showcased to the world. Not _private stuff as in private areas_ , I mean like secrets and maybe internal demons and–”

“ _Felicity.”_

Felicity stopped talking. She looked up at Oliver and her breath caught. The pain shone clear from his eyes and she knew that she would do anything to chase it away, to chase away those shadows brought upon by her marks.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you, and I _hate_ that I did, but I just… I just thought it was best at the time.”

He didn’t say anything, just looked her at her unwaveringly. With a jolt, Felicity realized that Oliver was reining in his temper by a very short thread. Logically, she knew that the anger wasn’t directed at her; he was upset that she was hurt, that’s all. But that didn’t stop the flood of guilt from overwhelming her. Why was she feeling guilty? Because Oliver was in pain because of her, and that made her heart ache.

She took a deep breath. It was time to come clean. “Oliver, I… Just try to understand that it was an accident, okay? He really didn’t mean to hurt me and he felt awful afterwards.” A muscle began ticking in Oliver’s jaw, making Felicity gulp. She knew she had to hurry or he would explode. Softly but firmly, she continued. “Roy… He was asleep and in the middle of a bad dream.” At the mention of Roy’s name, Oliver visibly jerked backwards, shock morphing his features. Regret and anger battled for dominance in Oliver’s eyes. Felicity’s own expression mirrored the pain she could see there as well.

Oliver opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Felicity shook her head in a gesture for him to wait for her to continue.

“It wasn’t his fault. I wanted to wake him but he got startled and he… He didn’t recognize me for a moment. He um,” Uncertainly, Felicity gestured to herself, vaguely pointing at her bruises. “He did this in self-defense. As soon as he fully woke up, he backed off and apologized. And I’m okay, really. These bruises will fade. I’m okay.”

For a moment, there was absolute silence in the foundry. Oliver and Felicity just stared at each other. Oliver’s face was worryingly blank. Then in a flash, Oliver whirled around and punched the glass case that held his bow, shattering it.

Felicity jumped up, startled, as glass scattered on the ground.

“God _dammit!”_ Oliver roared. He was vibrating with rage and something else. Something Felicity couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that seemed very close to fear.

But why would Oliver be afraid?

“Oliver!” Felicity exclaimed and moved forward when she saw the blood on his knuckles.

Oliver spun around to look at her and Felicity halted her advance at what she saw. His expression, in that moment, scared her. Because it spoke volumes. It poured out intense emotions. It whispered words not ready to be said aloud. It spilled secrets buried deep.

It made her shiver.

***

He didn’t say a word. Not when she grabbed his uninjured hand and led him to the med bay. Not when she ordered him to sit still while she cleaned out and dressed his hand. Not when she was done and she sat next to him on the med table, her legs swinging off the side.

It felt like they were sitting there for hours, but Felicity knew not much time had passed, because the others weren’t back yet. Still, they were later than usual. Maybe they stopped to grab some dinner, Felicity mused.

Her thoughts scattered when she felt a warm hand gently grip her wrist. Looking down, Felicity saw Oliver’s large fingers ghost over the bruise there, tracing unknown patterns on it. The sight riveted her; she couldn’t look away.

When he spoke, Oliver’s voice was rough with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

Felicity’s head snapped up to look at him. She stared at his downturned head, his eyes watching his fingers on her wrist.

“What? No. Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for.”

Slowly, Oliver raised his head to look at her. The pain in his eyes made her stomach clench. “I should have protected you. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

Felicity’s eyes widened. “Oliver–”

“I made a vow to protect you. When you first joined us, I promised myself that I would keep you safe. I failed. I failed you, Felicity.”

Fear gripped Felicity. This wasn’t like him. Oliver didn’t speak like this. Not to her, not like this. But on some level, she understood what he meant. Oliver shouldered the burden of protecting everyone he cared about, and he cared about her. Oh, Felicity knew it wasn’t the same way she cared about _him_ , but he still did, in his own way.

Felicity twisted around to face him properly, causing Oliver to drop his hand from her wrist. It clenched into a fist in his lap.

“Oliver, _no_ ,” she said forcefully. “You did not fail me. This wasn’t your fault, or Roy’s. It was an accident. Accidents happen. We get past them and we learn from them. For example, I told Roy next time I’d use his stick to wake him up,”

Felicity didn’t correct her – once again – dirty innuendo as she saw the corner of Oliver’s mouth lift up in a tiny smile.

Her heart thundering in her chest, Felicity’s hand reached over to cover Oliver’s fisted one. For a moment, it didn’t yield. Then it relaxed under her touch, curling up into her grip; Felicity felt as if she had taken a breath of fresh air after too many moments submerged underwater.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

A breath of air escaped Oliver, like a laugh but not quite so. “You’re asking _me_?”

“Yup,” Felicity replied, popping the _p._ Felicity removed her hand from over Oliver’s because she couldn’t handle anymore contact. Even now, it hurt. “Oliver, I’m tougher than I look. Don’t worry about me, I can handle this. I _did_ handle it. And you can’t be mad at Roy. He’s already going through enough.”

“I know you’re tough Felicity. Sometimes I think you’re the toughest out of all of us.”

Surprised pride filled her chest as a blush bloomed on her face.

Oliver continued, “I’m not mad at Roy. Well, yes, I am, but I know that logically, I shouldn’t be.” A rough hand scraped over his face, obscuring his expression for a moment. He sighed. “Felicity, I–”

Oliver broke off as the sound of laughter wafted down the foundry stairs. Twisting around to face that direction, Oliver and Felicity saw Diggle, Sara and Roy descending the stairs. Dig was walking with a bit of a limp and Sara had a small cut on her forehead, but otherwise they all looked unharmed. Roy grinned as he held up brown paper bags marked with Big Belly Burger’s logo.

His grin disappeared as Oliver jumped up and stalked towards him, stopping only a few feet away. Felicity looked at the latter, alarmed. He didn’t look angry but he was certainly tense.

Roy looked at Felicity, confusion obvious on his face. His eyes flickered down to her neck and she saw remorse fill them, then understanding. He glanced back at Oliver, not hiding the emotions in his eyes. Roy’s stance shifted; he looked like he was expecting a blow.

“Guys, what’s going on?”

Felicity glanced at Sara and saw the moment the other woman noticed her bruises. Glancing at Dig, Felicity saw him direct an intense glare to her wrist, then her neck. A vein jumped in his forehead, exposing his tension.

“Felicity, what happened to you? Who did this?”

Felicity glanced at Sara, opening her mouth to answer her. But before she could say anything, Roy stepped forward, bringing him closer to the rigid vigilante. Still looking at Oliver, he said, “Me. I did that to her.”

Felicity flinched. She couldn’t stand this, any of this. She couldn’t stand the resignation in Roy’s eyes. He looked ready to receive a punishment he was convinced he deserved. She couldn’t stand the accusing glare that marked Sara’s features. She couldn’t stand John’s stunned anger.

And most of all, she couldn’t stand this guilt overwhelming her. Oh God, there was _so much guilt_. Guilt that she had caused this strain in Team Arrow, guilt that she hadn’t been completely honest with Oliver, guilt that she was putting Roy in this position. And most of all, most pressing, most devastating, was the guilt she had because she was in love with a man who didn’t belong to her. A man who would never belong to her. A man who was committed to the woman standing a few feet from her, a woman who was nothing but pleasant to her. Guilt that as awful as this situation was, this display of care from Oliver still warmed her heart.

“Enough,” she ground out forcefully. Felicity stepped in between Oliver and Roy, holding a palm out towards each man.

Turning to Roy, she addressed his earlier words. “Roy, you didn’t _do_ this to me. I mean yes, technically you did, but it’s not like you meant to. I know you didn’t and I most definitely don’t blame you.” Turning, she directed her words at the other three members of the team. “And neither should any of you. What happened happened, lesson learned, now let’s just move on. None of you are going to give Roy any heat about this because A, he didn’t mean it and B, we have more important things to focus on, like what Slade’s crazy plan might be.”

When no one said anything, she rolled her eyes and snapped, “Okay?”

For a moment, no one moved. Oliver was still glaring at Roy over her head, his face tight. Then he stepped forward and around Felicity, putting his hand on Roy’s shoulder. His movements were deliberate, as if Oliver didn’t want to do anything that might unleash the anger she knew was still brimming beneath the surface. His body was still tense, but his face smoothed out. “Just be careful next time, okay?” he ordered gruffly.

It nearly broke Felicity’s heart when she saw Roy’s shoulder sag in relief. He nodded at Oliver, and then the latter turned around and walked to the area with the shattered glass. All four of them watched him as he crouched down and began collecting the broken glass pieces.

After a beat, Sara moved towards the bathroom to change out of her Canary costume while John, after hesitating for a moment, went to put away his gun. Felicity turned back to Roy and smiled reassuringly. The relief in his eyes was nearly palpable.

They didn’t speak about it again that night, but Felicity knew that Oliver filled John in on what exactly happened, when they moved to a corner and spoke in hushed tones, apprehension radiating from both of them.

And Felicity, well, she was glad everything was out in the open, because now she didn’t have to wear a scarf in the already-warm foundry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Hopefully that was worth the wait. I apologize for the angst but seriously, it just took over. And no, this is not the last chapter. What's funny is that I was stuck on this chapter but I literally already have the last line of this fic written and ready to go. Let me know what you think of this chapter and look out for the next one!
> 
> PS: The note under this one is from the first chapter and I don't know how to remove it. Please disregard it.


	4. …And Ends with a Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions are asked, confessions are made, and things get resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know, I'm a horrible person but (hopefully) you guys love me anyway. This chapter has been sitting in my laptop for AGES but I just couldn't bring myself to post it. First it was uni interfering with everything, then when I sat down to edit the chapter, something just felt off about it. Anyways, I've fixed it up and and presenting it to you with a cute bow (green, of course) tied on top.
> 
> This chapter is written differently from the others. It's separated into sections. The bold represents reflections/actions/thoughts from a future time (not that far, just a few years) while the normal text is the present.
> 
> Thanks to ALL who read, kudo'd and/or commented. It fed my soul and rekindled my muse. 
> 
> Without further ado, the fourth and final chapter of A Startled Awakening!

 

**If you had asked Felicity if she thought that one incident, once accident, one mistake, would have led to this moment in her life, led to this smile threatening to engulf her face, led to her standing where she was, she would have shook her head and laughed in indulgence. She wouldn’t have believed you.**

**But now, standing here in this moment, she believed.**

***

It took a while, but eventually her bruises faded and became a distant memory in her mind. She didn’t forget – it was hard to forget something like that, especially considering that she didn’t have much hands-on experience with violence – but she locked the memory away in a box and shoved it to the back of her mind.

She still occasionally caught Roy looking at her with remorse. Whenever their eyes caught, he would freeze then look away, furtively sneaking glances in her direction. Felicity would always smile reassuringly.

Roy’s actions weren’t confusing. They weren’t what kept her up at night, grumbling into her pillow about unclear signals. They weren’t what caused her to hold in a contented sigh every time a green-gloved hand settled on her shoulder. They weren’t what made her heart flutter.

Felicity could understand Roy’s actions. But she couldn’t understand Oliver’s.

***

**If you had told 11-year-old Felicity that a hand on her shoulder would be more intimate than a kiss, she would have scoffed and rolled her eyes in disbelief and continued working on the computer she had built from spare parts. For was there anything more intimate than the meeting of lips?**

**If you had told her then, she wouldn’t have believed you. She believed now.**

***

She would catch Oliver looking at her with an indescribable look in his eyes. She could never pinpoint an emotion because his face expressed such a mix of them at a rapid speed. But she cherished those looks he gave her, because they made her heart thud and filled her stomach with butterflies, even when she didn’t understand them.

Felicity pushed this to the back of her mind too. She was sure this weirdness was just due to some lingering regret on his part, even though she’d assured him enough times that he wasn’t responsible for what happened.

For a while, she was afraid that she had broken something in the team dynamic, but to her utter relief, Team Arrow went back to their normal patterns, falling back into a comfortable routine.

When Felicity witnessed Oliver and Sara’s breakup, she didn’t feel any relief or happiness. Because Oliver’s pain meant her pain.

***

**If you had nudged goth-Felicity with a smile and pointed at a gorgeous billionaire with blue eyes and a charming smile, she would have said they would never suit and laughed it off. She would have dismissed your _imagine ifs_ and ludicrous scenarios with a wave of her hand. She wouldn’t have ever believed your fantasy of the billionaire falling for the IT girl.**

**She believed now.**

***

It was another quiet night in the foundry, but instead of Roy sleeping on the couch behind her, it was Oliver working out.

Both Roy and Diggle had headed home earlier after they were done with patrol. Felicity lingered behind to wrap up some updates. And maybe to ogle Oliver a little.

She snuck up a glance at him on the salmon ladder and suppressed a sigh. He was just so beautiful. And he wasn’t beautiful despite the scars, he was beautiful _with_ them. Because of them.

Oliver’s scars showed his history, his pain, his experiences. They showed his strength, his perseverance, his unwavering will to live. His scars were the roadmap she would love to spend hours tracing.

Snapping her eyes away from his exquisite torso, she watched from the corner of her eyes as Oliver dropped from the salmon ladder and headed to towards his towel and water. He tipped his head back to take a sip, exposing his smooth throat, and Felicity almost moaned.

It wasn’t fair. Why did he affect her this much?

And God, she wished it were only physical. She wished she was only attracted to him. But it wasn’t just lust. It was an all-encompassing love; Felicity was sure of that with a bone-deep certainty.

Standing up, she headed towards Oliver and perched on the table housing his arrows, making sure to stay away from their sharp tips. She faced him and registered his quizzical look.

“Can I ask you a question?” she queried.

He grinned and took her breath away, damn him. “I have a feeling that you’d still ask without my consent.”

Felicity gave him a small smile. “Wellll, this question is more of a personal nature. So I would totally understand if you didn’t want to answer.”

He stilled and that was all the encouragement her mouth needed to ramble.

“And it’s like none of my business. But I’m curious. And I want to know. And you know how I hate mysteries and I’ve been thinking about this and it’s not like I can work my magic and find the answer online because you’re probably the only person who knows the truth.”

She paused to take a breath but then didn’t continue rambling when she felt Oliver’s warm hand descend on her shoulder. His eyes were soft as they gazed down at her. “You can ask me anything you want, Felicity.”

And there he went, melting her heart with his sweet words. Did she even have a hope of resisting him?

***

**If you had told Felicity that she would recite these vows without her mouth taking over and rambling, she would have patted your arm, said “ _that’s a nice thought but I sincerely doubt it”,_ and went back to working on her code.**

**She wouldn’t have believed that she would unwaveringly utter these words without awkward innuendos and countdowns to regain control. She wouldn’t have believed she would just be able to expose her heart and thoughts and desires on purpose.**

**Standing in this hall now, facing everyone she loved and cared for, she believed.**

***

“That night that you found out about those bruises… Why did you get so angry?”

Oliver closed his eyes swiftly, his brows coming together as if he were reliving an unpleasant memory.

Felicity waited him out, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. Her question had most probably opened a floodgate and she didn’t want to close it just yet with a possible ramble.

After what seemed like forever but was probably only a few moments, Oliver opened his eyes –

And the emotions she saw in their depths made her heart stop, then rebound with a furious tempo. Raw, unadulterated emotions, emotions that resembled the expression he had directed at her after punching the glass case that night.

“Why did I get so angry, Felicity?” he said, releasing a harsh laugh. “Because it could have just as easily been me.”

Felicity stilled. That was not the answer she was expecting. Her eyes widened and her heart ached as her lips trembled with distress. “Oliver… What are you saying?”

His expression softened from self-derisiveness to fondness, making her blink in surprise. “Felicity, I… When you told me about Roy, all I could think was that it could have easily been me who had hurt you. And I could have done even more damage that just bruises. Damage that wouldn’t have faded. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that happened. I wouldn’t even _want_ to.” He paused, his eyes searching hers. “Don’t you see, Felicity?” he asked softly. “Don’t you see?”

Felicity didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. For what could one say when one’s fantasies seemed to be happening before one’s eyes? So she just mutely shook her head.

Oliver swallowed hard, emotion clogging his throat. “You’re very important to me, Felicity. I… I can’t lose you. ”

***

**If you had told Felicity that dreams came true and fantasies became reality, she wouldn’t have believed you. Yes, people can achieve their goals if they’re dedicated and work hard. But some things just remain unattainable.**

**If you had told her that the one thing she yearned for in the dead of night, in the middle of the afternoon, in every passing moment of her day, would reach out, grasp her hand and say, _“be mine”,_ she wouldn’t have believed you. **

**She believed now.**

***

For a long while, there was only silence between them. Only it wasn’t a quiet silence, because Oliver and Felicity’s gazes into each other’s eyes was a conversation all by itself. It was a silence that spoke volumes, that poured out declarations, that relayed all the feelings that could not be worded quite yet. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t utter a single word. And yet she still replied to his confession.

Her eyes said it all. _I can’t lose you too. You’re important to me too. I… I love you too._

And for the first time in months, Felicity could see everything clearly. Those longing looks she thought she had imagined, those lingering touches she associated with remorseful emotions, those smiles he directed only at her that made her heart flip and race… It wasn’t because Oliver was feeling guilty. It wasn’t because he viewed her as a close friend he could trust and rely on. It wasn’t because she was projecting her own emotions and saw what her heart wanted to see.

It was because Oliver Queen loved her. That realization came with a sharp, shuddering gasp ripped from Felicity’s throat, breaking the silence between them; she never once broke eye contact.

Oliver smiled softly at her, understanding in his eyes. He knew she knew. He wanted her to know. But a warm sadness mingled with the understanding as he slowly looked away from her, expelling a sigh that she felt like a caress across her face. He wanted her to know he loved her… But he didn’t expect anything back.

***

**If you had told Felicity that all the pain, all the seemingly hopeless waiting, all the quiet tears and silent dreams, would one day lead to a happy ending, she wouldn’t have believed you. There was too much pain involved. It was too complicated. It just wasn’t meant to be.**

**She wouldn’t have believed you if you had told her that it would all work out and she just had to have faith and keep holding on. But on this day that was labeled as one of the happiest days of her life… She believed.**

***

Closing her eyes in pain, Felicity took a deep breath. There was one more thing she needed to know.

“I know it's been months and you two are always on good terms when she stops by but...” Felicity opened her eyes to look at the man standing before her.  “Why did you and Sara break up?” she asked in a rush.

Oliver stilled, his eyes slowly moving up to meet hers. She tried to read his eyes but he hid his thoughts. A long silence stretched between them that Felicity itched to break, but some instinct deep within her told her to stay quiet and wait him out.

Finally, Oliver opened his mouth and replied in an unexpectedly soft voice. “Sara and I... We weren't good for each other. What our relationship was based on...” He seemed to struggle with his words. “It wasn't right,” he finally said, expelling a breath of air. “It was familiar and easy and brought some measure of comfort. But it wasn't right.”

Felicity lowered her eyes. She was surprised by his honesty and how forthright he was. She hasn't expected him to reveal so much.

And that's why her eyes snapped up in shock when Oliver continued. “I couldn't see us when I closed my eyes. I couldn't see us together in the long run. I couldn't see our future.” He paused for a moment, and then said in a voice so soft it cast a spell around the foundry, “She wasn't my happy story, Felicity.”

Felicity sucked in a breath of surprise. Old words she had directed at Oliver filtered through her mind. _“Do you have any happy stories?”_

***

**If you had told Felicity that she would be standing in front of the man she'd never thought she'd have, with him looking at her with love shining from his eyes, she wouldn't have dared believe you. If you had told her that he would utter his vows in a clear, steady voice fierce with emotions and with absolutely no doubt in them, she would have cried because it was too much to hope for.**

**If you had told her that this man would look at her and expose his heart in front of everyone, saying, “You are my happy story,” she wouldn't have believed you.**

**She believed now. She will believe tomorrow. She will believe for the rest of her life, because Oliver would always lean over and whisper those words into her ear, through anniversaries, casual dinners, quiet nights and steamy evenings… _You are my happy story_. **

***

Felicity’s heart thundered in her chest. Her mind raced with the implications of his words. Because all those unspoken emotions between them, all those lingering touches, all those long looks and bittersweet words they had shared in the past few years… All of them were on display, proudly shining from Oliver’s eyes.

And so she asked the one question that was burning between the two of them. “Who is your happy story, Oliver?”

When Oliver wordlessly took her hand in his, she only smiled and intertwined her fingers with his. She realized that Roy wasn’t the only one who was startled awake. Somehow, Oliver had been jolted back to reality and his eyes were wide open, finally seeing what was right in front of him all along: his happy story.

They were each other’s happy stories… And they always will be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for reading my story! I hope it fulfilled some of your Olicity fantasies and made your Olicity heart flutter ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Next up, Oliver's reaction when he sees Felicity's unexplained bruises. Dum dum duum.


End file.
